Man Inside a Bottle
by Maverick87
Summary: With passion comes remorse.


**Author's Note: This is horribly done and I expect no love. It was an idea I've done before and I rushed it on purpose for fun. Sorry for the preemptive disappointment.**

**Man Inside a Bottle**

By the time you've taken, by the thoughts you've progressed, you're the poststructuralist who can't find anything wrong with the world, but you find  
yourself dancing in front of the mirror  
drunk off blackberry whiskey  
you knew better than to buy fruited alcohol  
you candied your dick in your hands  
wondering where you'd be without it.

Where would you be without it?

* * *

I watched television that day and made a sandwich. Tuna fish on wheat. I heard tuna fish had enough mercury in it to affect the brain.

Too late.

The windows were fogged because the condo is small and I was taking a shower with the bathroom door open. I felt steamy and good looking again. My features were bright and clean. So cleanser like, as if I was the solution to the eyes of the world.

I kept looking at the red skirt on the wall. Framed like an athlete's jersey along with the headband. The cute little dress Amy Rose would wear just about every day of her beautiful life. It felt good to stare, she loved and hated that. I kept thinking what would happen if I kept going with her, kept the façade up.

Love swirling like a milkshake I would buy at diners and fast food joint ventures. Eating out all the time, all the goddamn time.

And now?

Oh I feel lactose intolerant about love and its meaning. I don't think people want science to explain everything right? Neurology sure can kill you, sort of like tuna when you take enough of it. Haha.

I find myself funny. I laugh at all my own jokes. I tell a joke and walk away and people call me out for that.

But it was before taking a shower right before I got though with my two hour bath. The lights were out except for the little mini stereo I put in there with me. I listened to the music and watched the shadows of my own hands. If you knew how good I am with shadow puppets, you'd appreciate the art and art is meant to be appreciated.

The funny thing though was in the darkness I kept looking at my dick. I couldn't see it and I knew it was there but it looked like a void.  
so I cradled my balls and rubbed them around.

Yeah they were still there too so my penis was too, that needed no philosophy  
but something else did.

I felt the lack of needing either, minus the physiological need of taking a piss. I mean what really was the point of having sex organs? Minus the obvious reasons of whacking myself to sleep. I missed Amy that bad.

Sometimes I would shoot in the bathtub and then have to use my hand to send all the pearls down the drain. Of course now I just turn on the shower unlike the idiot I used to be.

But all this was great because Amy wasn't nagging me on about things. No sir. No ma'am? I guess I shouldn't gender stereotype. Amy was gone. I could touch myself. She only remained in the bathtub and in my lonely nights and the occasional wet dream.

Damn it this isn't important and something has to be right? Somewhere down the shaft? In the shaft? I really like that word. Any who, I got a better story back from a couple months ago.

* * *

I was sitting in the farthest pew. A wedding was going on and I crashed into it. You see, wedding cake is the best. Butter cream icing and the buffet going on after the ceremony, the crab cakes and prime rib and fried okra; I could write you a song about how much I love okra.

I noticed Tails is sitting nearby. He's wearing a tux, an orange cumber bun, smart shoes, the whole get up.

I'm literally wearing a worn polo shirt and old khakis. I told some people I didn't know the wedding was today and I just would feel better if I showed up and gave Cain and Abel my proper blessing.

You see this was a gay wedding right? Oh and the greatest names ever for anybody getting married. If you want to go with human biblical proportions, if you know them, I mean overlander stuff is hard for most Mobians to remember.

So Tails and me head to the reception and he says were friends of the grooms or brides or whatever. The checker guy asks us if we're together and I say yeah, of course. We've been partners for five years now.

Luckily Tails's name is on the list and we get in and eat the crab cakes and the okra.

So we start putting this act together on the fly, an improv performance. I mean kisses on the cheeks, slaps on the ass, snap queen theatrics, lisps added to our voices, everything we could. I felt like the damn thing was a huge stereotype, but people loved us. I mean they loved us. Do you guys live in town they ask? We do. We live outside Knothole's gayborhood near Cummings Street.

And they all except us to come to a party in a couple of weeks with spritzers and finger foods.

I've never used the word spritzer.

So me and Tails decide to go, why not, more free shit and friends maybe?

We leave to my respective condo and his respective apartment. About fifteen miles apart. Nowhere near the gay district of Knothole.

Then I get a phone call that night.

Then he gets a phone call that night.

We both called suicide hotlines at the same time and listed each other as the emergency contact, the ex-spouse. And I couldn't believe the luck!

"Mister hedgehog have you talked to your…um most recent partner lately? Tails Prower"

"I can't talk to that dick. He's a jerk-off, a long one."

"Tails Prower recently called and said he wanted to kill himself. Has he ever mentioned such actions to you before or after you're…um breakup?"

"Which way did the fucker go?"

"Sir? Um who are you talking about?"

"How did Tails die? Slit wrists? What are we talking about here? I want to know what to say at the funeral."

"Tails isn't dead yet."

"Oh."

A pause and small breathing goes on for a second and I wonder how freaked the hotline guy is.

"Will you just call me back when he's dead?"

And I hung up the phone and laughed and laughed.

Next thing you know I get a call from Tails. He was giggling like he when he was innocent.

And that's how we started dating. I got over the whacking and the sexy memories of Amy Rose and it felt greater than Tails's blowjob on our second date. If anyone didn't already know that foxes were the best kind of lovers. Or at least that's what I heard.

But it gets worse. The following conversation is as I remember it.

* * *

"You know I was thinking I could be honest now, we're both committed to this relationship right? It's been three months and everything and I think that's enough to—"

"Whataya got to say Tails?"

"I'm a skinny."

"A what?"

"I like the way human beings feel and…"

"Oh god! That's hilarious!"

And he looks pissed.

"It's not funny!"

"I'll put a human suit on for you."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah."

"You're lying."

"Nah."

"How can you be so nonchalant?"

"I'm bored."

"Really?"

"Who is it?"

"What?"

"What person gets you off? Why'd you get so into this?"

"Dr. Robotnik."

I feel myself laughing.

"Oh hell….You want me to dress up as Dr. Robotnik and fuck you?"

"Yeah."

"Well that's going to be weird."

"You'll actually do it?"

"Yeah, Tails. I'll pretend to be your grandfather or something."

He sighs with the same longing he has after every nonhuman, sexual encounter I suppose we've had.

"I thought you'd break-up with me!"

"Don't underestimate boredom Tails, you'll go far, or crash and burn or be fucked up. It doesn't matter man."

So I became Dr. Robotnik three times a week and wore a human suit and gave Tails the time of his life. I didn't know he didn't like me so much as a hedgehog.

It hurt with the good thoughts in mind. But Tails screamed and shook every time as if he was nervous or scared.

* * *

"Oh god I love you doctor."

"I know Tails."

"You were my equal and oh fuck! I fucking I love you!"

"…"

The human suit gets itchy and Tails howls loud enough to shake the walls.

"I LOVE YOU SONIC!"

And I pulled out.

Left the room in the suit.

I got in my car and screamed aloud.

It wasn't my name!

God damn it.

I got home and took a shower until I passed out in the shower. I woke up at 4am still pissed and shivering.

The one name he knew never to speak about.

If you knew me. Oh god if you knew me and how I was with…with him.

* * *

I've got one more fucking story for you. No literally, it's a story, a sobbing one about fucking.

* * *

He undoes my skirt and he's doing a minor and I'm so close to having a memory.

But he sees no boobs.

Sonic sees a man.

"What the fuck is this?"

He looks displeased.

"Sonic don't you want me?"

"I want Amy Rose! Not…you! Who the fuck are you?"

"I AM AMY ROSE! DAMN IT!" my voice hampers and lowers to its proper tone.

I knock the lamp over and the light bulb breaks on the rug. I'm breathing hard and he is too. He looks like an animal in heat, but not for sex. Sonic wants to kill me.

"Get out now before I kill you. I am going to kill you if you don't leave. I don't want to see you ever again. If I do I'll beat you. I'll put you in the hospital if I have to. You'll either be dead or incapable of anything else."

And he pushes me out the door and throws me a blanket to walk home in.

* * *

I see two people.

Amy Rose and my birth, Harold the hedgehog.

I crossdress. I did it at an early age. A transvestite from the beginning of my creation. My name was made up (good name right?). My fur was dyed. My eyes aren't even green like his, they're black. Loved girly stuff and I still do. Fishnets, skirts, makeup, drag shows. And I wanted Sonic more than Tails did. I was a girl. I really thought I was girl until I learned about anatomy.

And you love yourself so much you can't give up the act.

We both wanted to have him. He broke us both. I got close until he saw my dick. He saw and screamed at the weakling, pleading fourteen year old fuck I was.

He said he wasn't gay. Called us faggots, freaks, and losers.

And I am a freak. I won't deny the claim there.

I guess this is why. This is why I posed the question of having anything to do with sex or what it conceptualizes. I felt like a liar, a scared, worthless liar, but that's why I framed myself on the wall.

All I could do was honor the legend. I lost my anger and found loss, confusion, and waste.

I found Harold and nothing but the walls and the life I thought I wanted, until I realized I wasn't strong enough to keep it.

Because I'm not funny or pretty or talented or lovable.

I am just a loner who makes tuna sandwiches and lies around the place.

And I wish I could tell Sonic….

He had already killed me.

* * *

The faucet drips me into another bath. Tears, salt, bubbles, and sweat assimilating with all the bathwater. I want something more than I can give and my hands find my dick. Amy loving Sonic, Sonic loving Amy, Amy loving Harold, everyone loving Harold. And I could feel myself nearly there.

They say an orgasm feels like dying, your breath and time gone with every stroke.

The end justifies the means.

It always does.

The pearls just circle the drain.

* * *

_-Maverick87-2011_


End file.
